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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041784">Butterflies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626'>Morpheus626</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Papillon San Fran AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Papillon (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:40:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,014</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25041784</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Papillon AU where Louis and Papi escape the penal colony together, and make it to San Francisco. They are living it up, enjoying domestic life, and enjoying bottomless mimosas. </p>
<p>Maybe too many mimosas, but only this fic will tell lol.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Henri "Papillon" Charriere/Louis Dega</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Papillon San Fran AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813576</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Butterflies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was inspired by one of the first shots of the movie, of Papi’s uh…pole dance…of a sort with his lady love (if you can call hip thrusting on public transit pole dancing, and y’know, just maybe you can.) </p>
<p>Shout out and my thanks to @meegsdarling on Tumblr for giving me the title for this fic!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="copy">
  <p>“Papi, <em>please</em>,” Louis’ face is a mask of apparent discomfort and concern as the tram clatters along. </p>
  <p>Papi shakes his head, and braces his feet even more on the walls by Louis’ head. It’s not the easiest sort of pole dance, thrusting himself at Louis while braced on the wall, his other hand holding onto one of the poles on the tram, but he knows Louis likes it. </p>
  <p>It’s just a matter of getting him to admit it, and it’ll be all the better if he can make him do it in public. </p>
  <p>“C’mon,” he teases, ignoring the prodding finger of the angry old woman beside him, poking at his ass. “She wants it!” </p>
  <p>“I do not!” Her finger disappears. “I want you to get down, young man!” </p>
  <p>“Oooh young man? If I’m young, then you’re just a baby. Baby face. My boy. My man!” </p>
  <p>“I’m so sorry,” Louis says. “There were bottomless mimosas at brunch. They should have had a bottom.” </p>
  <p>“I do have a bottom. Two, in fact,” Papi grins, and stumbles off the wall and nearly into Louis’ lap. “You, and-” </p>
  <p>He slaps his ass loud enough everyone near them stares. “This!” </p>
  <p>Louis’ face is in his hands, so he pokes at them. “Let me see your pretty face; I’ll surely die without it.” </p>
  <p>“Papi, my god-” </p>
  <p>“That’s the stuff! What I want to hear you saying later on, when we get home,” Papi interrupts, pressing kisses to Louis’ neck. </p>
  <p>He doesn’t pay attention to much else at that point, clinging to Louis as the tram jerks to a halt, and he and Louis get off the tram (maybe more like they’re tossed off, but he can’t be bothered to care at the moment.)</p>
  <p>“We have to walk now,” Louis sighs. “We can’t take that tram again, you know that right? That driver was an absolute monster, an asshole, you may be drunk and silly, but that is NO excuse-” </p>
  <p>“Did you like it?” </p>
  <p>He can feel Louis’ stare, even as he keeps his eyes shut, hanging onto Louis as  he leads them home.</p>
  <p>“Do you mean…” </p>
  <p>“Yessss. My dancing. It was good?” </p>
  <p>Louis’ giggle makes him smile and stumble. </p>
  <p>“Can I tell you my opinion of it at home?” </p>
  <p>“Noooo.” </p>
  <p>It’s a struggle to open his eyes again, to pull Louis with him into the nearest empty alley so he can lift Louis up against the brick wall of it, pressing kisses to his neck and face while Louis’ legs out of habit wrap around his waist.</p>
  <p>It’s Louis’ turn for closed eyes, and being utterly blissed out and breathless, but he still hasn’t said it. </p>
  <p>That won’t do. </p>
  <p>“Tell me,” he grumbles softly against Louis’ neck. “I have to knooooww. I worked really hard at it.” </p>
  <p>“At thrusting your cock in my face on public transit?” </p>
  <p>He nods. “It’s really hard to stay upright, right now. And getting my feet on that wall?” </p>
  <p>“You do have me braced quite hard here,” Louis winces. “Love, let’s finish this at home. I promise to make it worth your while.” </p>
  <p>“You’ll tell me I danced good?” </p>
  <p>“That…wasn’t really dancing, but yes. Yes I will.” </p>
  <p>He intends to run home, to drag Louis with him. </p>
  <p>“There are so many things in my way!” </p>
  <p>“You’re just drunk,” Louis soothes. “And those are your feet.” </p>
  <p>“In my way!” </p>
  <p>“I know, but we’re almost home.” </p>
  <p>“We aren’t,” he mumbles as he watches Louis fumble with the key to their house. “Oh. Never mind.” </p>
  <p>Louis laughter follows him in as he stumbles to the couch. “I love hearing you happy. You sound like bells.” </p>
  <p>“Bells?” </p>
  <p>“Church bells. At the end of a wedding,” he murmurs, and opens his eyes to find Louis sitting in his lap, watching him carefully. </p>
  <p>“Is that a proposal?” </p>
  <p>“You’re too beautiful for a church; the saints would weep that they could never match your radiance; the stained glass windows would shatter with the angels’ sobs,” Papi replies, and smirks at the grin that lights up Louis’ face. “But yes. It is. If we could, I would.” </p>
  <p>“Who says we can’t?” </p>
  <p>Papi rolls his eyes. “What church would let us?” </p>
  <p>“Maybe we can’t do it exactly that way, and be honest with me: would you really want a church wedding?” </p>
  <p>He shakes his head. “But I’d have it wherever you wanted.” </p>
  <p>“We can still do it though. Even if we’re the only ones who recognize it. And we’ll go to a church after,” Louis continues. </p>
  <p>“Are you saying yes?” </p>
  <p>“I am.” </p>
  <p>“And that my dancing was good, and that’s why you’re marrying me.” </p>
  <p>He opens his eyes again to Louis staring him down. “You…kept me alive and helped get me out of prison, off of a hell-like island. And you think I’m only marrying you for what you just did on the tram, that got us kicked off said tram?” </p>
  <p>“Both?” </p>
  <p>Again, the peals of bells, Louis’ lips on his, his weight warm in his lap. “Sure. Both. Even more than that.” </p>
  <p>“We’ll go now!” he tries to stand, but his feet refuse to obey him.</p>
  <p>“No, we won’t,” Louis soothes. </p>
  <p>“Then we’ll fuck,” Papi says, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. </p>
  <p>“I would love to, but you need to sleep. You can’t keep your eyes open. How about tomorrow morning?” </p>
  <p>“I won’t sleep THAT long.” </p>
  <p>Louis’ weight leaves his lap, and he flops over onto his stomach. </p>
  <p>In the morning, he’ll be greeted by the sight of a golden ring, a butterfly engraved on the band, on the end table near the couch, in his size, as well as an incredible hang-over. </p>
  <p>But for now, there is Louis beside him (he feels him sit down on the bit of couch just barely left open near his feet) and his laughter and the reassurance that he’ll be there when he wakes the next morning, and every morning after.</p>
  <p>And the last thing Papi thinks before he passes out finally is that the sun could cease to rise, but his morning would still be bright so long as Louis was there. </p>
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